


without the compass of my will (as it were mere smoke)

by chantefable



Category: Black Sails, Persuasion - Jane Austen
Genre: 18th Century, 19th Century, Age of Sail, First Time, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Historical References, M/M, Napoleonic Wars, Period Typical Attitudes, Pirates, Regency, Something Made Them Do It, Strangers to Lovers, Time Travel, War of the Spanish Succession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 15:06:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17624684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chantefable/pseuds/chantefable
Summary: A time paradox in the Caribbean transplants Frederick Wentworth, not yet commander, into a place beyond the present state of his understanding.It is still definitely Saint-Domingue, not that it helps the young man much. However, this proves a good occasion for him to become even more sociable and gentlemanly.





	without the compass of my will (as it were mere smoke)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thedevilchicken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevilchicken/gifts).



Frederick's wobbly legs finally found purchase and he succeeded in standing up on his own two feet right before the hard slippery surface gave a mighty lurch and he felt his heavy wet boots sink ankle-deep in treacherous sand. The rough wooden margin he was holding on to shrank into a loose length of thin rope while he wasn't looking, and as Frederick flailed his arms about changed its mind yet again, transforming into something round, metal and cannon-shaped that bestowed his forearms with a few bruises before blinking out of the existence altogether.

Consumed with concern that he might be losing his mind, Frederick looked around. Rapidly sobered by the dull ache from the large, cool, and now apparently non-existent spherical object, he peered into the middle distance, noting the absence of the tavern wherein he had been conducting his business with their liaison, of all the landscape marks indicative of this particular northern part of La Española, and, also importantly, of Frederick's own neckerchief. This precious piece of haberdashery, while no match to the formal cravat-and-neckpin which would make any man's countenance striking, was particularly dear to Frederick, for it provided Frederick's poor milky white neck and clavicles with an outrageously bright protection from the Caribbean sun, and, hopefully, made him look a little bit like a local. Now, however, he was already beginning to sense the sting from the merciless rays where he was normally safely covered up.

Also, he had decidedly no idea where the bloody hell he was.

Had he been so inconsiderate and lacking in good sense that he drank himself into an ungentlemanly stupor?

Frederick momentarily forgot the pain in his arms and cursed his imprudence.

But the sight around him was doubtless real and tangible; he could hear the hum of the sea and smell the salty brine. Even the shoreline trembled and solidified into a familiar shape, one that the maps suggested to be on the western side of the island, and not where Frederick knew himself to have been when he was carrying out orders to exchange information at the tavern.

A faint light was licking at the sea-edge in the silvery distance. The sky, which he remembered being distinctly clear and painted an intoxicating shade of azure, was now crippled by dirty grey clouds, large and softly spreading like an inexorable tumor. Indeed, tide and wind themselves appeared to be suspended, and not a hint of movement was to be felt in the heated air but a dangerous soupçon of the unknown that tickled Frederick's every pore and set the hairs on his bared arms upright – but whether it was a real gust of some supernatural breath or merely a queer play of his hereto modest imagination Frederick could not begin to say.

A sullen scream pierced the air and Frederick lost his footing again, sinking deeper into the shining sand. Looking around, he saw a man approach him, older in years and with features that were more wind-bitten and stern than what anyone not in the navy was expected to acquire, in Frederick's opinion. At a glance, the man seemed livid, but this mood was layered upon a confusion similar to the one disturbing Frederick, which suggested an immediate kinship with the stranger. However, while the man's irate expression imbued Frederick with caution despite the presumed affinity, what puzzled him more was the man's attire, which was decidedly, outrageously out of fashion.

The man, who was muttering English curses into his red beard, was dressed in clothes which must have remembered the reign of Queen Anne, such was the cut and combination thereof on his stocky person. There was also a distinct air about him that suggested a predilection for a life of liberty and power, in other words, the merry profession of piracy.

Frederick felt himself quite foolish as he stood there under the sun, which saw it fit to glare upon him from between the ragged clouds, and struggled to reconcile the shoreline, the man's appearance, the fact that he was now addressing him in French, and the actual words that he was saying. He might never make commander at this rate.

In dismay, Frederick urged himself to draw appropriate conclusions from the undeniable facts unfolding before his very eyes, and was forced to accept that the man believed him to be similarly seeking plenty and satiety on the high seas, in other words, a pirate – a French buccaneer – and was inquiring about some perturbing natural phenomenon which had just occurred.

Carefully studying the man's kohl-rimmed eyes and angry red ears, Frederick slowly pulled himself out of the sand, one leg after another. Seeing as French buccaneers had taken a fancy to the neglected western part of La Española a hundred or so years ago, back when other western territories had been claimed from the General Captaincy of Santo Domingo for sugar and coffee plantations to fill the coffers of King Louis XIV with gold, it was entirely probable that this man – Frederick was somehow tempted to call him gentleman in spite of his apparent choice of trade – that this man hailed from the same era.

Entirely probable, however improbable.

Not letting his feeble competence in French deter him, Frederick nodded a few times in what he felt were appropriate places in the other man's monologue, relishing the additional moments to gather his wits. He must have looked quite abashed and miserable while doing so, for the man rolled his eyes, which Frederick absent-mindedly noted as being handsome, and pulled the rag covering his head off. This he promptly shoved into Frederick's hands and dragged him along, his bearing slightly protective and patronising, the way Frederick had had the opportunity to enjoy from some of his better superior officers with a penchant for fostering young talent or not being able to bear the sight of a young idiot coming to unnecessary harm. This further strengthened Frederick's belief that the man might have been a proper gentleman before resorting to a life of piracy. 

Also, Frederick reasoned as he tied the rag that still bore the warmth of the other man's skin around his own head, granting it some blissful protection from the sun, also the man's attitude might mean that Frederick himself looks sufficiently nubile and vulnerable to radiate to menace whatsoever. Such an assessment, though faulty in the extreme, was something that Frederick's superiors usually counted upon when sending him for secret trysts in one place or another. Therefore, the knowledge that his cover was working despite the escalating weirdness of the situation that involved temporal displacement and pirates with unknown motives, inspired Frederick with confidence.

He might make commander yet.

***

The heavy sweetness of the rum had gone a little to Frederick's head, but not enough for him to ignore the fact that he was being a rather silly young man. In his excuse, it was still possible that he had simply slipped when exiting the bleeding tavern, hit his head and died, and so none of it mattered anyway.

It had been a few hours since the Incident, as they were now referring to it: the bizarre event which had left Frederick with forearms black and blue all over, even now looking quite miserable with his shirt-sleeves rolled over his elbows, and James with a thoroughly sour mood, bemoaning the disappearance of his ship, crew, and a number of associates from the milieu of French freebooters of Saint-Domingue with whom he was planning something daring and dastardly… something which Frederick was sure he had even revealed the details of, but Frederick had dismissed as unnecessary to remember seeing as it had already happened almost a hundred years ago.

Probably.

One thing that James had apparently held onto from his particular stretch of time was the rather comfortable hut they were now in (and its humble furnishings, along with a supply of food and alcohol). The other thing, Frederick surmised bitterly, was his liver: even as Frederick stretched out his legs on a footstool and thought that no paradoxical temporal displacement warranted him reducing himself to the mental state of a braying donkey, James seemed to maintain an agility of judgement and a firmness of pose, attractively offset by a blush of intoxication softly blooming across his cheeks. After a brief pause – lasting exactly the length of time required for James to purse his lips, throw the empty glass against the shabby wall, stare at the shards twinkling in the candle light, and deliver a lengthy tirade on the nature of their predicament – James returned to the drink which Frederick had privately already sworn to forsake.

Fortunately, James appeared to bear Frederick no ill will for failing to join him in the journey towards inebriation. Indeed, he rambled quite freely, and resembled neither the livid stranger Frederick had first met in the initial moment of inexplicable stillness, nor the alternately consternated, confused, and curious McGraw who had established the unlikely details of the affair from his fellow wretch with far more composure than Frederick himself had ever been able to boast. If only he were ever to find himself back in his time, and not whenever the two of them were now, Frederick ardently hoped he would develop the same ability to leash his passions, which as of yet showed themselves too readily on his face. He fancied this skill as essential for a proper gentleman as gallantry and valour. Since Frederick was blessed with neither land nor high birth, he firmly believed that careful cultivation of personal qualities was his only way to a promising career and to a character accomplished enough to instill tender feelings in a life companion.

Resting his elbow on an armrest and propping his head on his fist, Frederick gazed at James, now finally sound asleep, and thought that if he was really, really careful, he might become as well-respected, considerate, and sensitive as necessary. After all, it did not seem that James had loved that man for his land and title, not at all. Those were most certainly all those other qualities that ensured their partnership against all custom.

Though what did Frederick know of custom of those days of long ago? The days when George I had been merely Elector of Hanover, and George Frideric Handel's Italian operas were the best music to enjoy? For all Frederick knew, everyone had had amorous liaisons with the same sex, with affectionate support of their legitimate spouse.

Looking out through the window into the inky blue night, Frederick deemed these things as probable as him being cannoned out of his time, and as impervious to his opinion and control. With this, he closed his eyes and followed James' example.

***

Waking up, Frederick stoically acknowledged a severe lack of change to his temporal dislocation. His spirits were not permitted to sink, for there were a few positive things to note about the situation: the absence of a hangover, the presence of a hot breakfast (generously offered by James, who continued to prove himself a gallant host), and a gentle wind.

The latter was particularly welcome, providing not only a pleasant sensation on the skin but also proof of some supernatural shifts: the air itself felt different compared to yesterday's belligerent stillness. Frederick thus hoped that it might be a good omen.

He decided to share this insight with James over breakfast. This put his companion in a rather excited and enthusiastic mood. He proceeded to outline ideas and even grabbed an inkwell to jot down a few schematics; displaying the mind of a true strategist, he turned this tiny morsel of intelligence into a veritable theory, which, though nothing but extravagant conjecture, was, to Frederick's mind, entirely probable.

At the very least, as probable as time travel, which he had by now accepted as unpleasant but undeniable fact.

And so, Frederick saw fit to defer to James' age and experience in the matter. After all, he agreed that the only thing that had significantly altered between the moment when everything felt immovable, harsh, and hostile after the Incident, and the current hour, wherein everything was palpably more transient and less vicious, though still infused with silvery light and indisputable oddness, was the degree of their acquaintance. It was therefore possible to assume that increasing this degree of acquaintance further might propel the supernatural masses into action, thrusting the two of them out of this indeterminate realm into their respective times – and perhaps even desired locations – on the same island.

Having fortified themselves with breakfast and their minds perhaps slightly mellow with yesterday's rum, Frederick and James proceeded to test this hypothesis with all the rigour worthy of true scientists of the Age of Enlightenment. 

They spent the rest of the day in each other's company, never straying away for more than a few feet; they regaled each other with even more tales of their youth and childhood, increasingly more embarrassing and intimate; they shared hopes and dreams they would have otherwise thought completely private and unfit for another's ears. Despite the initial discomfort, such thorough unveiling of character and temperament had a cathartic and almost soothing effect upon them both, and the evening, deliciously fragrant with a steady breeze, found both of them tired but content.

The air of contentment made James' face more relaxed and even more handsome, in Frederick's opinion; an effect further highlighted by the sunset and the lassitude that lingered between them, walking shoulder to shoulder along the shore. It occurred to Frederick that there were more ways in which they could deepen their acquaintance, and he saw no harm in sharing his ingenious plan with James.

At this, James expressed a measure of surprise, which Frederick strongly suspected to be fraudulent and merely intended to spare Frederick's own sense of decorum and sensibilities. He found it touching, and was persuaded that his idea merited to be put in action even should it prove to be inefficient, for no other man at no other opportunity had seemed to Frederick as appealing and worthy of utter confidence. Strangely, neither James' tumultous social life nor his life of piracy were a deterrent in the moment, even though Frederick knew himself to have been raised with some prejudice against both. However, in that moment he only wished to press a kiss against the other man's wind-chapped lips, which he did with unbridled enthusiasm. 

Belatedly, he hoped his relative youth might excuse his immoderation lest James found it unattractive, and, stroking the other man's beard, wondered how he compared to James' lost lover. But he was not allowed to dwell on these thoughts any further when James clasped him tight and returned the kiss a thousand times over.

Frederick drank in the sight of James, who shivered ever so slightly even as Frederick rushed to unlace the ties on James' clothing. All the while, Frederick listened to his own body in wondrous excitement, feeling how much he enjoyed the hungry roving of James' hands under his shirt, and how keenly he desired James when he saw his bared clavicles – the firm tightness of his stomach – the crimson flush which spread in a hot wave across James' face.

Heaving a deep sigh of delightful anticipation, Frederick drew James down onto the pile of their discarded clothing (for no amount of rapturous delight would suffice to distract Frederick from the observation that sand was not something he wanted in his nether regions), and the two of them lay cheek to cheek, bodies quivering with intense emotion. 

To Frederick, them not being entirely undressed was more titillating than complete nudity, and he explored the lines and marks upon James' skin like a treasure map. The response made him feel desired and appreciated in a peculiar sense which was a sensual discovery all on its own; the kisses and the greedy, proprietary touch of James' hand inside his breeches stirred Frederick to the quick. Eager to return the favour and intent on nothing else, Frederick grasped and begged, lost in luscious sensation. Pressing his hand up and down the shaft, Frederick sought to bring James to completion and swallowed his cries, again, and again, and again.

Such ecstasy was indubitable, undeniable, unimaginable. Even yesterday, Frederick would have thought himself incapable of ever experiencing it – nay, of it ever existing under the sun. Vibrating with excess of emotion, he kissed James once more, and found himself at a loss for words.

The breeze intensified again, and Frederick looked at the line of the horizon, scarlet sunset sinking into silver, and was half agony, half hope.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from Marcus Aurelius Antoninus - His Meditations concerning himselfe, Book Twelve, as translated by Meric Casaubon (1634):
> 
>  _What is the present estate of my understanding? For herein lieth all indeed. As for all other things, they are without the compass of mine own will: and if without the compass of my will, then are they as dead things unto me, and as it were mere smoke._
> 
> Other references:
> 
>  _"In honest service there is thin commons, low wages, and hard labour. In this [the life of piracy], plenty and satiety, pleasure and ease, liberty and power… No, a merry life and a short one shall be my motto."_ \- a lifestyle concept from John 'Bartholomew' Roberts, also known as Black Bart.
> 
>  _"I am half agony, half hope."_ \- from Frederick Wentworth's letter wherein he offers himself again to Anne Elliott in Persuasion.
> 
>  
> 
> In Black Sails timeline, James McGraw meets Thomas Hamilton in 1705 and Urca de Lima plot begins in 1715. Around that time, Captaincy General of Santo Domingo has tensions with Saint-Domingue, the de facto occupied western third of the island with French slavery-based sugar and coffee plantations, which are a major source of the French budget under Louis XIV. The buccaneers originally played an important role in settlement and colonisation, and oscillated between freebooting, plundering, and sedentary tobacco plantation business in the later years.
> 
> In Persuasion timeline, Frederick Wentworth was engaged to Anne Elliot in 1806, being commander in consequence of the British naval action off Santo Domingo.
> 
> Santo Domingo was recovered by France from Haitian rebels in 1802, when Napoleon sent Charles Leclerc with an army against Toussaint L'Ouverture. It was once again reclaimed by Spain in 1809.
> 
> The British and the Spanish are having a temporary truce in the Anglo-Spanish War under the Treaty of Amiens from 1802 to 1804. Britain has declared war on Napoleonic France in May 1803.
> 
> Therefore, Frederick Wentworth has probably time-travelled from sometime in late 1803. When he is *desperate fanon handwave* part of a secret British navy team doing secret undercover sabotage missions against the French Saint-Domingue. Which is why he went drinking somewhere in the northern part of the island. The reader is invited to pick what British agenda Frederick Wentworth, secret agent, is advancing here: are the British supporting Toussaint's successors and Haitian independence (declared in 1804)? Or are they working together with the remaining Spanish forces of the annexed Captaincy General of Santo Domingo (the British in fact captured the city of Santo Domingo and returned the eastern part of La Española to Spanish rule in 1809)? Choose your own adventure. None of it happened anyway.


End file.
